Her mother answered with a groggy, “Hello.”
“Mom, it’s me. I feel terrible.”
“Dear, you’d better take this. It’s Robbie. She’s sick.”
She heard the phone clunk a few times as it changed hands.
“Talk to me,” her father stated in his usual brusque manner.
“Dad, I’ve vomited and now I’m so dizzy I don’t think I can stand.”
“Do you have pain in your right side?”
“It hurts all over.” She moaned.
“Listen to me carefully, Robbie. Get up slowly, put your head down, and take some deep breaths. Go to the stairs.”
“Dad.”
“Just go.”
Robbie rolled onto her side and sat up. “I’m going to pass out.”
“No, you are not. Breathe deep.”
“Okay.”
“Crawl to the stairs if you have to.” She felt another wave of dizziness as she obeyed her father. “I’m holding onto the wall.”
“Are you on the stairs? Robbie, stay with me here. Now hold onto the railing. Count out the stairs to me. Keep going, honey. Go to the front door. Unlock it.”
Feeling the world swirling around her, she did as he asked, then said, “Unlocked.”
“Good.”
“Got-to-go-to the bathroom. I’m going to be sick.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
She dropped the phone into her robe pocket and crab-walked up the stairs. She must not pass out. She must not pass out. Dad lived so far away. She wiped her mouth on tissue, flushed, then put her head down on the bathroom mat. Just for a minute. Dad will be here in just a minute.
Jake stopped at curb in front of Robbie’s house. The lights were out.
He hesitated. What was wrong with him? Of course he couldn’t go ringing her doorbell at midnight.
He’d probably scare her half to death. He put the car into first and eased back onto the street. He drove around the park where the fir trees swayed in the wind and past the Care Manor where most of the windows were in darkness. He felt as if he should turn around and go back. Grief did terrible things to the mind. He had the knowledge of death but he hadn’t assimilated the reality into his being as he was being forced to right now. He heard the wail of a siren before he saw the lights flashing. He hoped no one was seriously ill at Care Manor. He watched the lights flash across the park and come to a stop.
Jake accelerated and arrived just as the paramedics were removing the stretcher from the back of the ambulance at Robbie’s house.
“What the hell is going on?” he asked.
“Sorry, mister, you’ll have to stand back.” The man in uniform shouldered him out of his way as his team rolled the stretcher up the walk.
They opened the front door and called Robbie’s name. Jake paced on the front walk. You should have had her stay with you. Moisture pooled in his eyes. He yanked the winter hat over his ears, shoved his hands into his pockets, and stood on the front stairs. Stupid pride. Robin, rather Robbie, had never hurt anyone really. Frank was happy. It was you who felt betrayed. What did she really do to harm you? Nothing.
He heard the paramedics on their phones talking to someone.
Just then another car pulled up to the curve. A man and a woman ran past him and into the house.
The paramedics exited carrying the stretcher. Robbie was covered by a blanket and belts held her secure. Her head was wrapped in a towel. He stepped forward. “Robbie, I’m here.”
She moaned.
“Step aside, sir,” an attendant instructed.
He moved onto the lawn and watched while they slid the stretcher in the back and closed the doors. The ambulance roared down the street with lights flashing. His head didn’t want to believe what he had seen. Robbie was in an ambulance. Where would they take her?
He heard the front door close and turned to see the man and woman who had run into the house just minutes ago, striding toward their car.
The woman glanced over at him and stopped. “Are you Jake, by any chance?”
“Yes.”
The woman called. “Ron, this is Robbie’s friend Jake that she told us about.”
The man advanced quickly, extending his hand. “Ron and Megan Smith. Robbie’s parents. They’re taking her to the General Hospital. I suggest you meet us there in emergency.”
Ron put his arm through Mrs. Smith’s and they turned toward their car. Jake shifted the Mustang to third gear following their taillights down the city streets to the hospital.
He damned the speed limits and held reins on the Mustang. When he arrived, he imitated the quick purposeful stride he’d witnessed at the manor all these weeks and followed the signs toward the ER.
Robbie woke to clatter. She wriggled her toes, stretched out her legs, flexed her buttocks, and contracted her stomach muscles. Oh that’s tender. She stretched her arms and fingers. Where was she? She squinted against the bright light that obliterated the remaining dream fragments where Jake had fed her ice chips on a beach. She closed her eyes again.
When she opened her eyes, Jake was in the same room standing at the window with his back to her. She leaned over a bed rail, “Jake.” He turned and took three giant steps. He scooped her into his arms. Cradling her head against his shoulder, his hand smoothed the muscles along her back. He kissed her sticky forehead. When the heart monitor sounded an alarm, he almost dropped her.
A nurse slid to Robbie’s bedside. “Sir! I need you to step back. Miss Smith, lay back and relax. Your heart’s going to jump out of your chest. Breathe deeply. Slowly. Close your eyes. That’s it.”
A steady beat beeped until Robbie opened her eyes and saw Jake.
“Maybe you’d better leave,” the nurse said.
“No, don’t go,” Robbie whispered. “He’s a friend,” she explained to the nurse. “He surprised me.”
She slid the covers up to her chin. She’d rather burrow under all of the blankets than have him see her like this. But she’d just defended her thesis that said packaging shouldn’t make a difference. If he could see her at her very worst and not run for the hills, then maybe they had a chance. She felt like her bones protruded through her skin and her hair was all greasy and she probably had bad breath.
“A few minutes. No more.” The nurse looked at the clock and then at Jake before she bustled from the room.
“I’m thirsty.” Her tongue felt like sandpaper. “My throat hurts.”
She drank from the blue plastic cup with a flexible straw that Jake held to her lips.
“Your throat will be sore for a couple of days. You were a very sick woman.”
“I remember waking up and feeling awful. I called Dad and he wouldn’t shut up. Kept at me to unlock the front door.”
“While he was trying to keep you conscious, your mom called nine-one-one.”
Robbie struggled to sit up. “Where are they?”
Jake ran his fingers through his hair. “In the cafeteria.”
“This doesn’t make sense. How’d you get here?”
“Guilty conscience.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t call. I still don’t have your phone number in my phone book. I arrived when the paramedics took the stretcher into the house. I was there when they carried you out. I met your parents. They made it to your house and your dad told me which hospital they were taking you or I would have had to chase the ambulance.” His fists opened and closed at his sides. “We were pretty scared.”
“What happened?”
Jake’s eyes connected with Robbie’s. “Food poisoning is the educated guess.” He waited a moment, then added, “I’ve gone over everything we ate. The only thing I didn’t eat was the vegetable dip.”
In that momen
t, Robbie knew the dip was the probable cause. “I ate nearly all of it. I nibble constantly when I’m nervous.”
Jake chuckled as he leaned onto the edge of the bed. “The woman who defended her thesis in a disguise, nervous?”
Robbie raised an eyebrow. It was the only thing she had the strength to lift. “Last night was different and you know it.”
Jake lightly touched her arm. He didn’t want any more alarms to go off on the monitors. “We’ll talk about that at another time. You need to get stronger.”
“I’m working on it.” She lifted her hand and covered a yawn.
Jake stepped out of the way when her parents came into the room.
“Sweetheart. I was so worried,” Robbie’s mother said while she cupped her hands around Robbie’s face and kissed her on the forehead and cheeks.
When her mother stepped aside, her father wrapped her into his barrel chest. “I knew you’d pull through.”
“This is my fault. If I didn’t carry everything to the nth degree, you wouldn’t all be standing here with sunken eyes from lack of sleep and worry.” She smacked the sheet with her palm.
“As soon as they let you out of here, you’re coming home with us.” Her mother took charge in her usual way. “When do you think that’ll be, Ron?”
Her father ran his hand over the top of his head, like he always did when he concentrated. “Usually within twenty-four hours if there aren’t complications. We’ll cancel our tickets.”
“Oh, no. You’re leaving for the conference tomorrow.” Robbie gasped. “Dad, you’ve worked so hard on that paper. The conference can’t replace you at such short notice.”
“Don’t worry, honey. They always have someone in the wings for unforeseen circumstances.”
“No, I can’t let you do it. I’ll stay here until you get back. I can do with the rest.” She covered her face with her hands and yawned.
“Honey, when you’re discharged, you’re expected to go home. This isn’t a hotel.” Her father’s voice was gentle.
“I can’t leave my little girl.” Robbie caught a glimpse of disappointment in her mother’s deep hazel eyes. She knew how much her parents needed this break and how much they’d looked forward to it.
“Don’t cancel anything right now. Maybe I’ll have a clean bill of health and everything can go as planned.” She straightened her back, raised her chin, and tried to look like a woman in control in her baby blue hospital gown.
Jake stepped away from the window again. “I’ll help out. I’ll look after Robin, uh, Robbie at her house. I’ll make sure she follows any orders.” He met both her parents’ gazes with a firm stance.
Jake stood in the middle of the hospital room and wondered what to do next. He’d made the offer. It was up to Robbie and her parents. Her father looked from him to Robbie and back again. “I’ll track down the man in charge and see what he says. If there aren’t any serious issues, it might work.”
“But who’s going to make soup and make sure she’s safe in the tub?” Megan Smith patted her daughter’s arm.
“I can,” Robbie said.
Jake stepped closer to the bed. “The soup isn’t hard and I’ll listen at the bathroom door.” He pictured Robbie leaning back in the tub with bubbles bursting across her chest. He smiled for the first time in many hours. “I’ll even volunteer to feed her soup in the tub.”
The rhythm of the beeping heart monitor sped past normal.
“Hold on there,” Mr. Smith said with a stern playful frown. “Jake, come with me and we’ll track down the information we need.”
Jake followed Robbie’s father from the room but turned for one last look at Robbie tied to her bed with tubes and wires and couldn’t help grinning like an idiot.
“Robin, what do you think? Could Jake look after you?”
She’d been called Robin. Her mother was serious. She didn’t call her Robin often. Robbie took some deep breaths and willed her heart to slow down. Visions of Jake spooning consommé into her mouth while she lay naked in a tub would definitely have the alarm bells going off. She concentrated on pleating the sheet. “Of course, but I might not need anyone. I could just crawl under my covers and sleep until you come home and then it will be Christmas. I’m exhausted.”
They heard the men approaching. “Good news,” her dad called. “Your electrolytes are within range. They’ll discharge you after lunch.” Both men were smiling like they just watched the winning touchdown in a Grey Cup game. “I’ve talked to Jake and I’m sure we can trust him Megan.”
“What did the doctor say exactly, and not you the doctor, but my doctor? Do I really need someone to stay with me?” She sat up straighter, feeling awkward and slightly embarrassed.
“You do if you want your mother to accompany me on this trip.”
“Oh, all right.” She answered as if it wasn’t a big deal but when the heart monitor started to beep faster, she lowered her head. “When do they unhook me from this thing then?”
“Are you sure, honey?” her mother asked.
“I’m sure, Mom. I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll take care of her until you get home,” Jake assured them. It was still hard to separate the brown-eyed Robin with the hazel-eyed Robbie, the voluptuous figured woman with the one in front of him now. She deserved to have him wait on her hand and foot. She’d taken time away from her thesis to be with his granddad and even spent time with him. Jake shook his head. How could he have refused to hear her explanation? He owed her big time and more than just the money they agreed upon. “I’ll pack a bag, pick up a few staples, and meet you at home, Robbie.”
She didn’t want to think about Jake staying in her guest bedroom, all kinds of alarms would ring.
After the discharge order was received, Robbie’s mother helped her with her coat and then her mother brought a wheelchair into the room. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. The chair is hospital policy.”
“Then let’s get out of here.” Robbie perched on the vinyl seat.
When her mother balanced the flowers in front of Robbie’s face, she said, “I hope Jake’s causing those rosy cheeks and not a fever.”
“Actually I’m thinking about the state of my bathroom and kitchen and maybe having Jake so close.”
Robbie felt her mom’s hand on her hair, smoothing it as she had done when she was a child. “Take it slow, honey. Some men just have to learn how to fit into another person’s world.”
Maybe Mom had a point. Jake did see how others fit in their worlds so now it was his turn.
When they arrived at her house, she looked fondly toward the park, where Frank used to whisper to the geese. How she missed him already. She shoved the negative thoughts aside. Dwelling on them would change nothing. With her mother’s help, she changed into fresh clothes. Then she filled a bucket of hot water.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Her father was at her elbow.
“Dad, you’re the doctor. You know what happens when you have food poisoning.”
“I’ll do it. You go and keep your mother company in the kitchen.” Her father nudged Robbie out of the way. “If you have a relapse, your mom won’t come with me. So do what I say.”
Robbie readily stepped aside while her mother scooped coffee into the filter and set out four mugs. “Perhaps you should have tea. Clear fluids,” her mother said over her shoulder.
“You’re right. I would prefer a cup of mint tea. It’s refreshing.” Robbie searched through her basket of flavored teas while her mother filled the kettle with water to bring to a boil. Robbie leaned against the counter and warmth spread through her tired body. How wonderful was it that her overprotective parents could be here when she was sick? She tugged at the sweatshirt slipping off her shoulder and her thoughts drifted to Jake. She used her sleeve to stop a tear. He wouldn’t ever e
xperience this kind of love from a parent again.
Impulsively she gave her mom a huge hug.
“What’s this for?” her mother asked, surprise in her eyes.
“Thank you,” Robbie said simply. “For being my mom, for being here for me.”
Jake parked the Mustang in front of the house and scrutinized the outside, looking for evidence of the complex woman who had won his grandfather’s heart and was slowly causing his to open. With his duffle bag in one hand and flowers in the other, he rang the doorbell. He was surprised by the woman whose sweatshirt hung on her like drapery. “Robin, Robbie, step back, away from the cold. You look terrible.”
The smile that was there only seconds before disappeared. She looked down and stumbled back toward the hall. He rushed in and almost slammed the door against the winter air. He opened the closet and was met with her sweet, spicy scent. He hung his parka next to Robin’s heavy black coat. Of course both Robin and Robbie had used the same fragrance. He should bang his head against the door. How could he have missed that? His profession was studying and observing people. On a subconscious level he hoped that he had noticed, but he’d examine that detail later.
He carried his bag through the small living room with its hardwood floors and set it at the base of the stairs. He followed the sound of voices to the kitchen.
Robin sat with her back to him, the neck of the sweatshirt drooped down exposing one bare shoulder and a fuchsia tank top. Didn’t she have any sweatshirts that fit properly? Of course, it was a Robin sweatshirt versus a Robbie shirt. Had he really told her that she looked terrible? But she did. She looked like a scarecrow with the clothes flapping in a big wind. She could probably fly if a wind came up behind her.
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